


It Started With Shakespeare

by orphan_account



Series: BrOTP Hermione and Draco [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Books, Brotp, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Gay Male Character, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Letters, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Narcissa Black Malfoy Bashing, POV Hermione Granger, Pining Draco Malfoy, Smart Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13464936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hermione never put 'become friends with Draco Malfoy' to high on her to-do-list. But, play may just show Hermione that Draco isn't all that bad.





	It Started With Shakespeare

The day Malfoy was attacked by Buckbeak was probably the best day of my life.  
Despite Malfoy wailing and throwing a fit, it was quite amusing to find that he was finally put in his place. Though I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Draco, he did, after all, do everything right but just mentioned the hippogryphs ugliness. It was not really something to be injured over. For that reason, I was slow to join in on taunting Malfoy. If it had been any of the Gryffindors, the whole house would be in an uproar for justice. It didn’t sit right with me.  
This might have been why I tried to talk with him in the library, twice. Both times he bolted the other direction with a book tucked under his uninjured arm. He obviously didn’t want to talk to me.  
I let the encounter go.  
I had almost forgotten about Malfoy’s presence in the library until a day before an important charms test. On the table next to me, I had several books on charms and one of Shakespeare;’s plays I had read for entertainment. Honestly I found it quite idiotic. 

“How much do you want for that.” Malfoy phrased it as a statement. 

“For what?” I said without looking up from my paper

“For that book.” Malfoy was becoming more and more flustered. “The one with the rose on it.” 

I stopped. Malfoy, a blood purist, was asking for a book written by a muggle. About muggles. He was asking to read Romeo and Juliet.  
“I'm sorry what?” I must have misunderstood. 

“Granger, please.” He wasn’t looking me in the eye. He was staring at his polished shoes. That’s when I realized that he was wearing mascara. 

“Why do you want it?” I said, “Do you fancy someone?”

His face turned stark red. Suddenly the event became real. Malfoy was telling me potentially incriminating material. Why? Why did he suddenly want to talk with me? Why did he suddenly show so much interest in a muggle play? 

I gave Malfoy the book. He clutched it to his chest before placing it in his bag along with several potion ingredients.  
I may have been hallucinating but I thought I might have heard him say ‘thank you’ under his breath.  
Romeo and Juliet was returned by an eagle owl. Who seemed to have as much pride as his owner. Despite Malfoy annotating the whole play, the binding and pages were all intact. 

 

And just like that, Malfoy and I had a book club. We would swap books at the library and we would sit half a library away for hours as we both made notes in each other's copies. Before long I had read my way through Dante’s Inferno, A Hero’s Journey, Under an Hycath Tree, and The Act and Marrarisms of a Public Pureblood. The former was honestly disheartening, but I was Malfoy’s olive branch. He had barred his soul and customs in the form of a book.  
In turn, I had him read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, The Good Earth, Night, and Pride and Prejudice. 

For once in my life, I had a friend that never needed to speak to talk. All of Malfoy was body language and curt nods. 

So I was quite surprised when he brought back a book with a note written on the cover.  
Dear Hermoine Granger (God that sounds formal),  
Hi. I suppose we never really talk. I just needed to say something. Becky is so me. And Fiona is so you. Also, no hetero.

It was stupid, and the characters he was refereeing to only exchanged one word through the entire book. But for some reason, I laughed until my sides hurt. The corner of Draco’s mouth turned slightly upwards, almost too small of a change to notice.  
Next week we met in the library again, but he didn’t bring a book. Perhaps he wanted to show me one he found in the library. But instead of grabbing a book from the shelves, he shoved a letter in my hand. 

Draco Malfoy,  
I regret to inform you that you are no longer permitted on the grounds of Malfoy Manor if it is not between the months of school break. Master Malfoy wishes for you to know the reasons he can no longer call you a son.  
1\. You are unable to perform better than a mudblood. This is obviously enough to receive a beating for. One that has not been avoided in the past.  
2\. You have recently become buddy-buddy with the mudblood. This act of camaraderie is against pure-blood customs and forces the Malfoy name into a bad light.  
3\. Your homosexuality.  
Sincerely,  
Narcissa Malfoy.

For a second I wondered why Darco was showing me this. It was certainly family affairs that I had no part in. I couldn’t control his family’s hateful nature. then I realized, Draco wasn’t looking for a solution or even a plan, he was looking for comfort. So I sat there with my palm flat against his back as he sobbed quietly. His breath hitching.  
“I told my mom.” He choked out. “I told her I was in love.”

I couldn’t help but wonder, “Who are you in love with?” 

He looked up at me. “You would judge me. Everyone always does.”

“I won’t” And somehow I knew I was telling the truth.

“Potter. I’m in love with Potter.” He spits out the name the same way a person might say a swear. With malice and steel. 

“If it makes you feel any better” I leaned down and whispered my secret, “I'm in love with Ron.” 

Draco shot up wonder on his face, “The Weasel?”

“Yep!” 

“Sorry Hermoine, but I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.” 

And just like that, we were giggling like school girls. Ours heads together and talking about one thing or another, it was almost preposterous to remember that only a short few month ago we despised each other.  
Buckbeak attacking Draco was the best day of my life because it started the friendship that would last a lifetime.


End file.
